(Completed) Officer/Yoonmin

019

"There you are." I heard a voice from behind me say.
I turn around, and standing there is Yoongi, the last person I want to see.

"What are you doing here? And how did you even find me?"
"We used to be next door neighbors."
He replied to my question.

"And why don't I remember that?"
"Probably because you were too preoccupied with forgetting your parents death than to remember your friendship with a random boy."

I freeze.
"How do you know that.." I say with a shaky voice.
"I had some part in it."
That's when I remembered, There was a boy in the room with my neighbor.....

I got up violently and power walked to Yoongi angrily. I grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed him into the wall behind him, the dust and paint falling into his hair and clothes at the force.

"Did you kill them!!! You sick bastard!!!! How dare you!!!!" I screamed in his face.
He only stares at me, his features softened, taking me aback.

He grabbed my hands gently.
"I didn't kill them." He said softly.
"T-then w-who did.." I said shaking, holding onto his clothes tightly as I'm about to have a breakdown.

"My brother."
I look up at him.
"Your brother? You have a brother?" I ask.
He nods, but he has an angry look in his eyes.
"Yes, I do. He's a year older than you now, though I don't know where he is."

"Well, what about your father, what happened to him?"
"He's dead. He got a death sentence, since he wasn't only abusive and killed your parents, but he killed multiple people who had power, so he deserved what came to him."
Yoongi says, in a tone with bitterness.

I look down again gulping, but I look up, taking my hands off of his clothes, and instead, grabbed ahold of his soft and thin but large hands.

I back up and pull him with me, bringing him away from the wall.
I sit down on the burnt floor, and he sits across from me.

"Tell me.......tell me what growing up was like......only if you want." I ask.
"Sure, I'll tell you." Yoongi says.

He takes a deep breath, and starts.

"I lived with my father. My mother left us after she was in an abusive relationship with my dad and went to Japan. She didn't think I was good enough to take me with her, even though I was her favorite."

He sighed.

"My father verbally abused me, while he physically abused my brother. Sometimes I tried to help, but it didn't matter, because my dad always got his way.

My brother was a crybaby, he'd cry at the littlest things, the things that mattered, and the things that didn't. Because of that, my father would take him out on trips to toughen him up, but it never worked.

But then you came and moved in next to us. You were the light in our life, especially my brother's. We all played together, and my brother never cried with you. He felt strong with you. You guys played more than me, since you were closer in age.

That photo you saw, it was when us three got ice cream.
My brother was on the other side of you, but I folded that over since I hate him now."

I rub Yoongi's arms, comforting him as he talks. He looks at me gratefully.
"Then there was the time that my father took him out again, though I was curious because of the tools they were holding.

I got even more curious when they went to your house.
I called 119, and I went over to your house, listening to the conversation between them.
I was mad my sisters died, but I didn't meet them, and your parents already payed the price, yet my brother killed them.

I know he thought he didn't have a choice, but he did. He could've killed my father, if he had courage. He could've done anything else, but he was a coward.

After the gun shots I ran back to my house and grabbed all my stuff. I grabbed money and I ran. I ran to a police station.

I tattled on my dad, but not on my brother, since he was only 8. We both got put in the foster system, and I slapped him the day we arrived, the first time I ever put my hands on him.

He knew why I did it, I could see the understanding but pure terror in his eyes.
And after that, he didn't cry, and I never spoke to him again."

"My goodness, that must've been tough to deal with."
I respond, some memories coming back to me, I remember two boys with me on the day of the photo- I think.

"Well, what happened after?"
I ask.
"He got adopted, and I never saw him again. I lived at the same foster home until I was 18. I then lived on my own, and got myself into some bad business."

We didn't talk after that, me, not knowing what to say, and him, reminiscing.
"I'm sorry for bringing it up. I ruined the mood."

"It's fine, the mood was terrible anyway. Don't worry." He says, reassuring me.
"Now," He starts.

"Let's go to my place."

•••

Sorry for the late update.

Lynn~~